Ice and Steel
by Mr. Fox
Summary: When Ivan reveals himself to the man that will lead him to glory and destruction!   sorry for the crappy summary. I'm tired.


The two men sat across from each other in total silence, one at a desk smoking a pipe and writing something, the other sitting cross legged smiling sweetly. The man smiling was very old, but he didn't look a day over twenty. His muscled and lean form sat calmly in the seat, that thin smile still across his icy, pale skin. He hardly moved at all, except to perhaps run a gloved hand playfully through his light blond hair.

However, though he seemed the sweetest, most immaculate thing in the world his eyes spoke differently.

They were dark, violet eyes, that seemed to almost be dead. They spoke of bitter winters and maddening wars. Of revolutions, and bloody years gone by. And these eye were focused squarely on the man before him, the way a cat might focus on a plump canary.

The man at the desk however, was physically the exact opposite. He was large and heavy, with slicked back, black hair and matching moustache and eyebrows. He had a large nose, a peasant's nose. However, like the young man, the eyes told a deeper tale. This man's eyes, squinted as if seeing into the horizon. The spoke of power and resolve. Of paranoia and disregard for human life. But most of all they spoke of a will for survival, almost as strong as Russia's itself!

The man paused in his righting to look up. "Comrade Braginski, I thought you had left with the others?"

The man spoke these words as if in surprise, but it was in reality hidden irritation. The other man smiled even wider. "But Comrade Stalin, I have such news for you."

"Whatever news you have for Stalin can wait till Stalin's in the mood. Go."

"I think not."

Stalin looked up from his papers, glaring at the boy from a cloud of pipe smoke. "What was that boy?"

"I said I think not. I like your office comrade, and the smoke smells nice."

Staling thought on this for a moment, then shrugged and replied, "Suit yourself boy." He then began to go back to his notes.

Ivan continued to watch him, a strange look of fascination and insanity across his smiling features. Finally after what seemed like an age he said, "Why do you call me boy Kopa? I'm almost 5000 years old."

Stalin suddenly looked up at this. Not only had the man's announcement of age puzzled him, so did the use of his old revolutionary name. He leaned forward, pointing at Ivan with his pipe. "Don't play games with me boy."

"Niet niet comrade," laughed Ivan, "You play games with me."

"I don't like your insolence!"

"I don't like your moustache. So there."

Stalin paused for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly. Finally he laughed heartily, leaning back in his chair. "Just who the do you think you are boy?"

Ivan rose now, going and looking at a portrait of Lenin hanging above the fire place. He sighed, "I'm nobody."

"Nobody stands in my office without permission," replied Stalin, who continued to puff on his pipe watching the man with renewed curiosity. "So you must be someone, or just dumb."

"Or just some _thing," _replied Ivan, who was now watching the flames dance in the fireplace. They reflected of his skin like sunlight on ice.

Stalin, although still fascinated, was now growing irritated. He to was standing now, and he walked over to the liquor cabinet pouring himself and Ivan glasses of vodka. The clear liquid shimmered in the fire light, as Stalin offered a glass to Ivan. "You must have a death wish to talk to the most powerful man in the Soviet Union like this."

Ivan to the glass, and looked at Stalin still grinning. "Niet Comrade. Niet."

He then when to a window, where a few lit candles were, and took one. He leaned in close to Stalin, holding the flame close to his violet eyes. "Look Comrade, how the light won't reflect on my eye. How it flees like the leaves during a harsh wind. A death wish, niet. As you can see Comrade, I am already quite dead!"

He then blew out the candle and tossed the vodka down his throat. Stalin only continued to stare, a rare look of awe and new found respect dawning across his face as he realized who, no, _what _he was talking to . He held up the glass, respectfully bowing to Russia before draining it.

They say that Ice can freeze anything, even steel. But whereas ice takes the warmth from all else, it can't with steel because steel has no warmth to offer…

It can only get colder.


End file.
